


Focus

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Dragon Age Fanfiction [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bookshelf sex, Desk Sex, F/M, Smut, Solavelyan, all the sex, request, solas likes doing it from behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A request from ArishoksBride. Solas/Trevelyan smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

_You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit_.

A quirk of the lip, a shift of the full, round hips, her head tilting

_Indomitable focus?_

Was that a blush? It was so difficult to tell in the cold air. She tucked a lock of long, auburn hair behind her ear, gazing at him.

_Presumably._

An attempted air of indifference. Then-

_I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be...fascinating._

There was no mistaking the sharp intake of breath that caused a heave in the generous flesh of her breast, and he had to avert his eyes. The young woman was human as they came, with sparks of magic licking through her veins, her body enticingly curved and robed in fine black and gold, only the best for the Herald of Andraste.

This was not the time for physical attachments. He had work to do, no matter how beautiful this woman was. He had to retrieve his orb and make his plans, and…

And it took him rather a while to stop thinking so obsessively over what she looked like, dripping wet, with rain pouring down her face, robes clinging to her body, after the last time they visited Fallow Mire.

Really, this was no time to be distracted. But oh, how distracting Evelyn was.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Evelyn heard him speak he grasped her wrist and held her hand up to a rift, and after her time in the Circle at Ostwick (fleeting touches, few and far between, nothing quite so daring as such open contact as this was) it sent tingles down her spine and pooled somewhere at the base.

 _What did you do?_ She’d breathed at him, and he’d told her it was not his doing but hers. Suddenly she ached to feel that firm grip on her again, though perhaps elsewhere…

His name, he told her, was _Solas_ , an elven apostate neither Dalish nor city, a mystery and a good foot taller than she was. Evelyn, for lack of a better word, found herself _entranced._ But upon arrival to Haven Solas adopted an air of professional detachment and simply addressed her with respect. He answered her questions when she asked, often most relaxed and approachable when discussing their mutual interests like spirits and the face, and the warm humour he’d shown at their first meeting was, for the most part, concealed.

Well, except once.

_I have yet to see it dominated._

Evelyn, that night, very much enjoyed the privacy she was afforded by her own room.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a veneer he wore for the short time that she disappeared after Haven, when the town was crushed beneath an avalanche and he did not know where to look for her. Then he tried the Fade, but the spirits were scattered and afraid, and only a few could offer him any help. They spoke of a woman who burned like fire lost somewhere to the south, and thus was his only confirmation of her survival.

Cullen carried her into camp a day and a half later.

She was shivering, drained of her magical energies, having consumed most of it using fire spells to keep herself warm and eating snow to keep herself hydrated. The amount of injuries she’d sustained were incredible – cuts, bruises, a fractured rib or two. Still, she was alive – shaken, and hurt, and crestfallen like all the others – but alive, and he could feel her thrumming with energy, with determination, buried beneath the depression brought on by the losses they’d suffered. It keened through him with an impression he’d never thought possible. She was a fighter, and this was only a setback.

Still, he could not escape the slight twinges of jealousy that crept through him at the sight of Cullen’s arms around her. It was foolish for him to feel that way but he did. When she slept to recover he would watch her in the Fade, tending to her by day. One evening, he watched the commanders of the Inquisition bicker amongst themselves. The Herald exchanged sharp, hurting words with Mother Giselle. Silence fell.

Then the music began.

Line by line, he watched the Inquisition fall to one knee in front of her and something twisted inside of him. So here it was again, that time for history to repeat itself. She would be worshipped. If she was made of anything less, she would become as the Evanuris had, and the Inquisition would be her personal militia. Solas could not look for too long, though he was glad when her only expression seemed to be bemusement rather than satisfaction, shock lighting her beautiful brown eyes.

He would tell her of the orb (his orb of course but he made it out to be a strange item) and see where she would go from there. And then he led her to Skyhold and watched as her people made the fortress their home. He was content to remain in the rotunda, occasionally dispensing wisdom and wishing Evelyn would burn that hideous beige monstrosity she’d taken to wearing. For the most part, he was left to his research and his magic.

Until.

 _I’d like to hear more about your studies_.

And he could not resist.

He took her to the Fade. He felt his barriers lowering in this unfamiliar place that felt so much like home, talked with her about himself and his plans when the Breach had occurred. She was witty, engaging, just as sharp-minded here as she was in the waking world, and attentive. He recalled grasping her wrist, the touch of his fingers electric on her skin.

 _I felt the whole world change_.

She did not respond to that as he had thought. Her response was not of curiosity but of _flirtation_ and Solas was not prepared.

_A figure of speech._

_…I’m more interested in felt._

He could not have anticipated the kiss, soft and chaste but leaving him hungry for more, and like a dog after a ball Solas _chased_ , holding her tightly, his thigh riding between her leg hard enough to force her gasps into his mouth and even in the fade, he could taste her.  

 _We shouldn’t_ , he says, even after he has gone in for a third kiss and driven sighs out of her, _it isn’t right, not even here._

 _Wake up,_ he finds himself saying.

Trevelyan does not come to find him for at least half an hour after they have awoken, and when she does, her _smell_ …

She smells good, aroused, the scent pouring off her fingers and causing his nose to flare. She has relieved the ache he caused her. Solas tries to calm the heat surging through his body and pretends he did not imagine himself helping her.

 

* * *

 

 

Evelyn _pined_.

She spent her time with Dorian in the library, occasionally peeking over the balustrade to see the elven mage below, but her Tevinter friend quickly caught on to what was between them and began to tease mercilessly. She would escape to find Leliana for reports and the Sister would, almost innocently, make remarks about Solas’ skill with magic.

She was surprised at how quickly she agreed to help him find his spirit friend – _control yourself, Evelyn_ , she chided herself, remembering his leg between hers, grinding until she was left needy, _you may be fighting a demon_.

And they were, but Wisdom was freed and Solas was left melancholy, abandoning the Inquisition for a few days to clear his head. They noticed a change when he was gone and suddenly it was as though all her companions knew of her pining. Varric asked what angle she wanted him to write Solas from. Vivienne, over the balcony, watched, hawk-like, and when Evelyn came to see her she requested help finding some books.

 _Oh, darling,_ the Enchantress added, _what colour silk should we put Solas in? The peace talks at Halamshiral are coming up soon and we desperately need proper attire for such an event. Blue, would you say? Or gold? Or black? Or perhaps some green._

 _Blue,_ she blurts out, thinking of his eyes, and then she runs.

When Solas returns, he requests to speak with her, asking _do you have a moment?_

 _Solas_ , she wishes to say, _I would give you all the moments I had if I could_.

He is curious about the Anchor – has it changed her? He seems keen for her to say yes but she doesn’t know.

 _You are wise,_ he told her, _something I have not seen since- since my deepest journeys into the Fade._

 _What does this mean?_ She asked him, and watched his eyes change.

 _It means I have not forgotten the kiss_.

Oh, Maker, neither had she. _Don’t go,_ she whispered, when he turned to leave.

 _It would be kinder in the long run_ , he said, and she was confused, but, _losing you would-_

He cut himself off with a kiss, furious and passionate against her lips, pressing her against the doorway as he grasped her hips and pulled her flush against him. His thigh once again slipped between hers and she rode it, gasping, feeling teeth against her jaw and neck, hungry and hot. She felt fingers at her tunic, unhooking the clasps, and _Maker_ , Solas was strong, pulling her inside and over to her desk. He shoved papers and cups from its surface and pushed her down, exposing her skin to him.

He loved it with his mouth, laying bites and welts down upon it until he could not take it, pulling off her bra and grasping handfuls of her breasts.

 _“You are so beautiful,”_ he breathed against the flesh, and then sucked a nipple into his mouth and continued to drive his leg between her hips, listening to her keening for mercy but never meaning a word of it. She held his head against her body and heard a rip of fabric as he tore her clothes from her, sliding her boots from her feet. There was a brief pause whilst the elf removed his shirt and then he was kneeling in front of her, pulling off her underwear with his teeth and sucking at her core.

Solas’ fingers gestured once to cast a spell to silence the room, and then he slid them inside of her and crooked and Evelyn screamed. His tongue was literally magic against her sex, and he devoured her with fingers grasping hold of her pale, soft flesh.

She returned the favour moments later, taking him in and pleasuring him until he hauled her up to kiss her, slick with her saliva, rubbing against her leg, and breathed _I will have you, ma vhenan._  

The first time he fucked her, it was over the desk, her leg thrown over his shoulder as he pounded her, desperation for her body eradicating his control as he sought his own pleasure as well as hers. She left scratch marks in the woodwork, red lines down his back, sweat stains in the varnish, shifting the desk’s place in the room with how hard he took her.

The second time he took her against the shelves, a little more patiently, having gotten his own end once already, rocking his hips slowly until she was all but begging him to take her. Her shaking fingers ripped books from their placements and left yet more scratches in their wake, until he brought her to quivering, wet climax with a thumb on her bud. He left dark bruises on her neck with his mouth, saliva on her breasts, and nail imprints in her rear.

The third time, they made it to the bed, a beautiful four-poster canopy affair, and Solas flipped her onto her stomach, raising her ass to his hips and sliding back into her wet heat. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other grasping a palm full of her plush hind as he showed her no mercy. He used magic to tease and stimulate, rendering Evelyn boneless from her climaxes. When he freed her wrists she ripped up the bedsheets raking her nails down the bed and squeezed him with her inner muscles. Solas fucked her into a blurry, limp mess, and that was the final round.

Solas did not leave her alone in bed that night, and when dawn broke, she found a sleeping elf at her side, his fingers curled between hers.


End file.
